


Man Like That

by azureheavens



Category: Tales of Graces, Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Build, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: Girl, you gotta wonder 'bout a man like that - The honest tale of two dishonest people.





	1. Destination

**Author's Note:**

> If I had my way, this project would be one of those musicals where they take modern songs and put them in a plot where everyone sings and dances. But since I am not that well connected and insane, I won't. I'll just name each chapter after a song that fits instead. 
> 
> This ship and this story have been on my mind for a while. I love both characters and seeing in what ways they are different and the same has been fun! I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_It isn't hard to leave_

_Knowing that I'll be getting life on track_

_Never looking back_

**Destination – Nickel Creek**

* * *

 

Tall glossy buildings marred Trigleph’s skyline, different from the grassy hills Cheria was used to seeing at home. The architecture was at once ornate and modern with gold ribbed spires and sleek angles. She had gone to the city a few times for health appointments as a child, so she was used to feeling swamped in the crowds.

It wasn’t _this_ city, but Trigleph was the one with the quickest job offer. And the farthest away. Barona was lovely, but she didn’t want bad memories following her. Late morning sunlight glinted off countless windows as they slugged through the brutal traffic.

She sighed, the music in her headphones distracting her. The driver from the airport was tightlipped. For once, she didn’t mind. All her belongings should already be at her new apartment, but she had to go straight to work. Cheria fidgeted with one of the pink curls framing her face. Flight delays threw everything off schedule.

Grandpa had seen her off when she left Gralesyde Airport. Lhant was too small to have anything like it. She teared up when he buried her in a long hug, promising he’d be fine with her away. Cheria didn’t believe him, but she wanted no fuss.

She had fussed enough to get herself here.

Soon, the driver pulled to the curb in front of her new workplace: Seahaven Assisted Living. Manicured flowers and cobble stone accents surrounded the one story, two building facility. It was set in a residential area not far from a hospital. A nature rich setting compared to the harsher cityscape.  

She thanked and waved the driver off, but he fled with a halfhearted wave and nothing else. Cheria gripped at her purse, biting her lip. Would she have to get used to that level of friendliness here? Her car wouldn’t be coming until later, so she would make do with ride shares.

For a month.

Cheria squared her shoulders, took a breath, and headed inside. The front desk welcomed her when she explained who she was. She pulled out the remaining health forms they asked of her and received a temporary uniform. The dull, purple scrubs had several small stains and wrinkles. Cheria frowned to herself. The ones she packed at her place were much cuter.

“Excuse me,” the woman at the counter said. “We’re missing few more things of yours. Can we see your ID?”

Cheria put on her cheeriest face. “Oh, of course! Sorry about that.” She dug her hand into her purse. Tissues, loose change, a granola bar. She needed her wallet. Box of mints, a few pens, small lotion bottle. She dug and dug. Where was her wallet?

The airport. Starving after the flight with no time to spare, she bought a bagel. Both wallet and bagel in one hand, the other clutching her carry on. She had finished the bagel on the ride over, but…

Where was her wallet now?!

* * *

 

 The airport was stale and crowded. The maze of halls and shuttles that would have boggled others were a well-rehearsed dance to Alvin. He dressed casual for his flight in from Sharilton, having just closed a new distribution deal with a brewery there. People hurried about looking at the ground ahead of them, or at a phone, or at the ceiling. It amazed Alvin people that could see where they were headed.

Then again, if the distracted traveler or tourist was common here, it would explain the wallet he found on the concrete outside.

He knew a woman’s wallet when he saw one. Dark pink leather with a silver zipper. Cheap textured accents, something you might pick up at a Target. The materials would cost about five dollars less than what they’d be selling it for, barely worth the money it carried. He weighed it in one hand. On the back was a clear sleeve with a paper ID card on the side.

Cheria Barnes. And her phone number.

Easy enough. Dropping it it off with an attendant would put it in limbo for the unlucky traveler, and how many days could a woman live without a wallet? The only good deed to be done was to call. The phone rang a few times before a high but musical voice answered. “H-hello?”

“Hey there. Is this a…” He rechecked the name. “Shereea Barnes?”

“Um, it’s Cheria, yes. Who is this?”

Alvin chuckled. “The lucky schmuck who found your wallet for you.” He looked up. “Just outside of Terminal B. Are you missing it?”

The woman gasped. “Oh gosh, yes, thank you! Is everything there? I mean, what’s inside?”

“That I cannot say,” he drawled. He stepped out of the way of a hurrying mom and her two boys. The beeline they made would have knocked him down. “It was fastened shut when I found it and I’m leaving it that way.”

“Good… Again, thank you _so_ much for calling. I thought I lost it for good.”

“Now I’m a bit late to something myself, but I can drop this off for you. Where do you live?”

“Umm…” The pause was long enough that Alvin jokingly wondered if they’d met before. Those who dealt with him before tended to think twice about the next time. “I’m not at home now. If it’s not too much to ask, could you drop it off at my work?”

“Sure, where’s that?”

“Seahaven Assisted Living. Do you know the place?”

He wanted to laugh. Of all places, there? He would have been heading over there already were it not for work. But it was better to keep his affiliations close to the vest. “Sorry, doesn’t seem to ring a bell, but I’m sure I’ll find it.”

“Let me text you the address. It’s not too far from the airport. I really, really, really appreciate your help in this!”

“Please!” Alvin threw back his head and grinned. “There’s no need to grovel. In fact, I’ll waive my delivery fee just for you. I’ll be there in say, thirty minutes?”

“Yes, perfect! Could I get your name, please?”

“Call me Alvin. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Thank you, Alvin.” Her voice was as sweet as a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll just call you on this number, or you can call me. Thank you again! Bye!”

Two low beeps, and she was gone. If thanks were loose change, Alvin would have a good stack of quarters from this conversation.

He got to his car, which waited patiently for him in the lot. The engine purred to life.

Alvin gave one last look to the wallet. Not much could be said of someone’s character just by hearing their voice. This Cheria seemed a sweet girl, but beyond her working where his mother lived, it seemed too perfect he would find it. Either someone’s good luck or a cruel joke on him.

9:21 am. He would have to make it to Mink’s by 10.

Clicking his tongue, he pushed his hand through his hair. “Better be some good karma my way for this,” he muttered, pulling out of the lot.


	2. Stray Talk

Alvin had dropped the wallet off at the front desk before she could meet him, and Cheria tucked it away in her purse immediately. She was sad she couldn’t thank him personally. Should she call? Send him a text? But that was ridiculous. They were strangers, and she shouldn’t go texting one, no matter how he helped her. She wished him well, that’s all she could do.

Today she will be shown around the facility and introduced to the residents. Her trainer, a quiet but kind woman named Isla, brought Cheria to room 26. A woman lay sleeping in the bed, blankets covering her all the way up to her chin. Platinum blond hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at her neck. Her face was gaunt but young with high cheekbones. Cheria hid behind her clipboard, waiting for Isla to start.

Isla moved to the woman’s bedside, pulling up a chair. “Leticia,” she murmured. Her fingers tucked some loose strands behind the woman’s ear. “Are you awake?”

Ruby red eyes fluttered open. They were sharp, but the movements were dull and unlively. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have gotten up to greet you.”

“It’s no trouble.” Isla’s lips curled to a smile. “I want you to meet someone.”

Her eyes flicked to Cheria. Cheria moved closer, leaning in. “Hello, Leticia. Your name is beautiful.”

A smile. “My, you’re quick to compliment me, mother. You named me, didn’t you? Are you sure there isn’t something you want from me?”

…Mother? Isla corrected Leticia’s blunder and helped sit up against her pillow. Cheria put down her clipboard and hurried to help pull back the blankets. Leticia’s chart mentioned mild dementia and memory loss, with her meds causing drowsiness. She had been in the care center for two years now, and Leticia was only forty-six years old, the poor thing.

Isla soon put Cheria to work tidying up the room and opening the window.  Cheria could have helped with Leticia more. She’d done care like this before working in a senior center. Helping those who needed it was always on Cheria’s mind.

Isla was very careful with her work, but her expression reminded Cheria of someone playing poker. She looked lovely with her tanned skin and eyeliner. Coal black hair in a bob framed her cheekbones and slender nose, and Cheria couldn’t help but be jealous of how straight it looked.  She checked her blood pressure, reflexes, and health.

“Have you been resting enough?” Isla asked.

Leticia nodded. “It seems all I do is sleep. I hope Alfred is doing alright at his boarding school. He cried so much when it was time to say goodbye.”

Cheria’s eyes darted to Isla. She didn’t want to overstep, but she had to know. “Who is Alfred, Leticia?”

A warm smile crested her lips. She looked right past Cheria. “He’s my little boy. With my health as it is, I can’t take care of him. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, but I just received a letter.”

Cheria’s throat tightened. “How often does he write?”

“Every week, when he can. He just told me he was going on a field trip to Sharilton, and that he would try to find a souvenir. Such a thoughtful boy…”

Isla held out a small paper cup with pills to Leticia. “Do you need my help with this?” Leticia nodded, reaching for a glass of water. Cheria’s eyes found a portrait sitting on a shelf opposite the bed. It had a young family. Leticia was much younger here, her hair loose at her neck. A man next to her held her shoulders, a whole head taller than her. Between them, a young boy with brown hair and red eyes grinned in his mother’s arms.

“Is this your family?” Cheria traced a finger over the lattice picture frame, her heart burning in sympathy. “How old is your son?”

Some mumbling, but no answer.

Cheria turned, then gasped. Isla had darted to her side and turned them both away from the bed. “Don’t ask too much of her.” Her hand at Cheria’s shoulder gripped tightly. “She’s stuck on the same memories, and if you press too far, she starts to regress.”

Cheria clenched her fist at her chest. She nodded. “I’m sorry…”

Isla gave a thin smile. “It’s your first day. You’ll learn it all soon enough, just watch.” She patted her back then returned to Leticia. The woman was staring out the window. After a moment, red eyes landed on Isla again.  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you just get here? I should have stood up to greet you.”

Cheria bit her lip. To be stuck in her memories like that, never finding the way out. What a sad way to live. But she was still alive. The family in the picture, even if they couldn’t care for her, still lived in her mind. She went to Leticia’s side to help Isla bring her under the covers again. The woman gave a tiny smile, chatting again about her son. He was her world. Was he the one who brought her here?

They had settled her down, and Isla led Cheria out into the hall.

“Do you like cats?”

Leticia raised her head to look at Cheria. Cheria stared, unsure of what to say. “W-why do you ask, Leticia?”

“Alfred loves cats.” She smiled. “I promised him we might adopt one when he returns for the summer.”

“Well…” Cheria glanced in worry to Isla, who nodded. “I do. I’ve never had any pets growing up, but if Alfred loves cats, I bet he’ll work hard to take care of her.” _Like he’s probably taking care of you_ , she thought, smiling.

Leticia eyes crinkled. She lay down her head, letting out one last sigh. “He loves cats, too.”

They shut the door, and Cheria let go of her breath.

“You did well in there,” Isla mused, her eyes shimmering with amusement. “Leticia… is a kind woman.”

“Yes, she’s very sweet.” Cheria clutched the clipboard in her hands. “Although, I do kind of prefer dogs…”

* * *

 _It's dark but I don't want to find the light,_  
_And I can't close my eyes._  
_The only one you really trust_  
_Is the one who always lets you down_

**Stray Talk – Maximo Park**

* * *

Bells heralded his entrance, as they did for anyone who entered Mink’s. There an hour before opening, Alvin would have the whole place to himself aside from some staff preparing for the day’s work. Portraits of models, classic and new, adorned the scarlet red walls of the repurposed speakeasy. Rats and other vermin technically the owned the place before the owner transformed it. It was half-past ten in the morning, but the air of night was thick in the room. Sweet aromas of perfume and liquor stained the air.

“Yo, Presa.” Alvin gave a quick salute. “I’ve got the cure for what ails you. For real this time.”

The woman leaning at the bar snapped her book shut. Golden eyes peered over thin glasses, ready to drown him on the spot. Presa was dressed in a low-cut navy blouse and tight leather pants tucked into slim boots. A long white sash wrapped around her hips like a belt and dangled to the side. Her long pale hair was styled with her bangs crossing between her eyes and the rest parted and peaked on top like the ears of a cat.

Presa languidly placed her book on the counter as he approached. His smile broadened. Hers didn’t. “For real this time, Al?” Her smoky voice dripped with metered disinterest. “So, all the other drinks you’ve guided my way have been duds?”

“And I’ve only just gotten the nerve up to tell you, of course. Come on, Presa.” Alvin leaned in, dropping a thick folio on top of the book. “I’ve never been a dud.”

Presa hmphed. She reached to her other side and took a sip from a glass.

“Day drinking already?”

“It’s water, idiot.” She drained it, ice cubes clinking as she set it down. With the folio now in her hands, Presa leafed through its pages, never once looking up. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

Alvin forced a laugh. “Really? When I’m back into town after slaving away for you? I bring a chance to sell the most decadent hard cider from Hamil’s Orchards, and this is my welcome.”

“You swing in here with your latest swill every month, and you treat it as if we haven’t met in years. Sometimes a woman tires of fake men who exaggerate the truth.”

Alvin shrugged and perched himself on a stool two seats away from her. She tucked a hair behind her ear, intent on ignoring him. Alvin put his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. The light from the open windows caught in the small chandelier above his head.  “I’m always amazed at how much you’ve done with the place, Presa.”

Presa looked up from the folio. “It’s honest work. ”

“At least now it’s honest, huh?”

Her bright eyes darted to him. In his years of experience with Presa, that look meant he was in trouble, or that they would get into it together. Usually on the counters, sometimes in the back. The whirlwind of memory made him turn away. Memories when she first started this place up. When he first dragged her under and almost lost everything.

Alvin dropped his hands to his sides. “Don’t tell me you forgot Mink’s first business model?”

She turned in a snap to glare at him. He stared her down, taunting. The game he played with her, with Jill Lewin, was all he could do to stay connected to her. No one else connected him to the past, chained to a life he pretended to forget. The back-alley deals, money laundering, and staging any sort of trick to carry them forward. He had slipped through shadow, emerging toward the light but never letting himself fully leave the dark.

“Al,” she growled, “Haven’t you had enough messing around?”

“I’m not messing around. I left it all, just the same as you.”

“It’s twisted.” Presa slowly shook her head. “The way you keep calling back to it.”

“You can’t say it’s twisted when you’re still here in this dive.”

“At least I got out of it alive.”

The air stung. Yes, he had lived through it, but the implication only Presa came out unscathed rippled at his skin. Coolly, Alvin got to his feet. “You always know how to cut right to the heart of it.”

“And you simply avoid it.” Presa leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, her face as somber as a saint. “What happened, happened. You’ve made something good of yourself too, you know.”

He gritted his teeth. The something good from the rotten. The money he stumbled into was enough to take care of his mother. His business kept him busy, and he earned enough to augment that coin into a decent life. Decent enough for him that is.

He turned back, lips twisting into an empty smile. “It was good to see you again, Presa.”

Presa sat up. Her foot started tapping the ground as she looked the other way. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer? We’ve been working on a new drink you might be interested in.”

“Hey, you’re not my only contact in town. But let me know if that cider sounds right for you.”

Presa frowned, but not at Alvin’s flippancy. “Just try to stay out of trouble. Your number’s off my phone, so good luck calling me up if you wind up bleeding in the gutter.”

“Well, there go my evening plans,” Alvin replied, shaking his head. He started to the door, nodding to the staff who appeared to sweep and clean the front patio.

Presa watched him go. She swirled the melting ice cubes in her glass, her grip tight.


	3. Green Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed with their ages a bit, making Cheria older so I can get them DRUN- I mean. Allow for more mature subject matter.

Cheria entered Leticia’s room by herself today. Isla was visiting her fiancé on vacation, and Cheria was still too new to have any PTO, or anyone to see yet. A few weeks into her move, with weekly checks to keep her afloat. Most of her days were spent getting her place settled and phone calls with Grandpa. She may or may not have cried at the beginning of a thirty-minute power yoga video on YouTube this morning (there was a lot to put away before she could center herself), but at least she didn’t breakdown in a class she had signed up for…

Conversation flowed from the open door. Leticia sat up in bed, facing a man sitting across from her. His red eyes flicked to Cheria, narrowing.

Cheria nearly jumped. “O-oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t know Leticia had a visitor.”

The man began to chuckle. Any suspicion in his eyes melted away. “Actually, I should apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you, though I was just about to leave.”

Leticia smiled distantly at Cheria. “It’s good to see you again.” She had begun to recognize Cheria like she did Isla, but it faltered occasionally. “This man was delivering Alfred’s latest letter to me.”

“That’s right,” the man said gently. He gestured to an open envelope in Leticia’s hands. “Came over as soon as I got it. Your boy is doing just fine.”

“O-oh,” stammered Cheria. Then was Leticia’s son really in boarding school? Isla never talked about it, so Cheria assumed Leticia was stuck in the past. “Well, thank you for keeping her company.” She crossed over to him and offered a hand. “My name is Cheria, Leticia’s nurse.”

The man stared at her. Slowly, his mouth curved in a smile. “So, _you’re_ Cheria? I’d thought I’d never meet you.” He slung his arm around the chair’s back. “I hope you haven’t lost your wallet again.”

Cheria blinked, then reeled with understanding. “W-wait, that was you? You found my wallet?” She pulled back her hand. “Then you’re… Alvin, right?”

Alvin stood, and Cheria subconsciously took a step back. Oh wow, he was _tall_. Broad shoulders and a sharp jawline. Dark brown hair styled back, just messy enough to be casual. He was well dressed too, with a thin, nearly black scarf draped around his neck. Alvin presented her his hand. “In the flesh.”

Cheria smiled nervously and shook it in her own. His grip was warm, his hands calloused. “Nice to meet you finally. Sorry I couldn’t properly thank you-”

Alvin pulled his hand away and shrugged. “What else could I do for the one taking care of Miss Leticia? I know she can be a handful sometimes.”

Cheria shook her head. “No, she’s wonderful! But her other nurse, Isla, helps her more than I could.”

Alvin gave her a look, suddenly serious. “What name did you-?”

“Wh- Isla?” A strangled voice came from the bed. “Where _is_ Isla?!”

They both turned. Leticia groped at the blankets surrounding her, trying to shove them off and stand. “I need to tell her. It’s important. Where-”

Cheria gasped and rushed to the woman’s side. This had happened before. “Leticia, don’t you remember? Isla is on vacation. She’ll be married next year, so she has to plan.” Cheria rubbed her hand over Leticia’s to soothe her, never letting the woman’s panicked eyes leave hers. “She’ll be back in two months, then you can tell her anything. Do you see?”

Leticia’s breathing started to slow. Cheria kept stroking her hand until eventually, the woman gripped it back. She nodded haltingly, eyes dropping to the ground, as she turned to the window.

Cheria let go of a breath. She turned to Alvin, ready to make an excuse for Leticia’s behavior, but he stared intently at her. When she saw him, he turned away. Unnerved, Cheria stood up and got to tidying the room. Alvin watched her work for a bit, wordless.

Then Alvin’s hands flew up to the back of his head. He leaned back a little and twisted his body back and forth in boredom. From the way his shirt tightened over his chest, it was obvious he worked out. “Well, I guess it’s time to make my exit. But oh? What’s this?” He leaned down by the door and picked up a box wrapped in brown parchment paper. “How terrible, I had almost forgotten. Alfred sent you this too, Leticia.”

At her son’s name, Leticia lit up. She leaned forward to take the box from the man, who helped her unwrap it: A hand fired tea set of white porcelain with ripples of burnt orange, painted like stalks of fire. Alvin opened the box and presented a teacup. Leticia gaped at the gift.

There was something so… personal about that moment that it felt rude to watch. Cheria turned back to her work when her eyes found that lattice picture frame.

A boy with brown hair and red eyes grinned in his mother’s arms. Eyes wide, Cheria’s hand trembled by her mouth.

“Oh, that boy…” Leticia’s voice was soft with emotion. “How can he afford something like this? He should use his allowance for books.”

“He told me he saved up to get you this,” Alvin said quietly, so gently. “Guess not just any old souvenir would do it for his mother, huh?”

Cheria’s heart nearly burst in her chest. _Oh, I’m so stupid! He’s Alfred…! And she doesn’t know._ She glanced at them, eyes stinging with pity _. She thinks her son is gone, but he’s right in front of her._

Alvin didn’t look at Cheria, only at Leticia. His smile was a ghost of sorrow, but he kept it warm. His mother cradled the teacup in her hands, then held it up to Cheria. “Would you help me? I want it on display. Next to that picture, if you would.”

Cheria brushed hurriedly at her eyes. “Y-yes, um, o-one second-”

In a beat, Alvin rose to his feet. “Allow me.” He took the whole set to the shelves by Cheria. She stepped out of the way like a nervous mouse, hands wringing by her chest. Alvin regarded her coolly. “You seem shaky,” he murmured only to her.

Cheria looked down, mumbling. “I didn’t realize… Are you her son?”

Alvin grinned, his resemblance to the photo stronger. “Well, I do try to keep it under wraps. Not many outside this place know about her, and I don’t go by that name anymore.” He set up the cups, the pot, and the sugar caddies on the shelf behind the photo. “There.” Alvin planted his hands at his hips. He nudged her with his elbow. “And you didn’t have to pull out a stepladder to do it, Miss Cheria.”

A giggle escaped her. She covered her mouth. “I guess I did forget to say thank you,” she mused.

Alvin smiled, red eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s no trouble at all. Sadly though, I do have to head out.” He gave her a smooth salute and grabbed his light brown coat from the chair.

Leticia beamed at him. “Please don’t go yet. I want you to deliver my thank you letter to Alfred. I need to start it yet, but-”

“If it’s no trouble,” Alvin said, looking over his shoulder, “you can let your nurse know when it’s finished, and I’ll come by.” He jerked his head to Cheria, flashing a smile. “You still have my number, don’t you?”

Cheria, dazed, finally caught up with the moment. “Oh, I do! I’ll let you know when it’s ready, okay?”

“Sounds good to me. Now, you ladies have a great rest of your day.” With that, Alvin went through the door.

Cheria clasped her hands together, watching Alvin go. Leticia sat up again in her bed and called, “Cheria likes cats!”

In three seconds, Alvin’s head popped back in the door frame. “Does she now?” He grinned and shook his finger. “I knew there was something I liked about you!” He left once again.

Blinking, confused, Cheria gave a belated wave to the strange, tall man. _Oh no,_ she thought. _Now how am I supposed to say I actually prefer dogs?_

 

* * *

 

Alvin wasted no time heading to Seahaven’s records room. With good luck and bad habits, he snuck into the room and leafed through before he found Isla’s information. Not a name he liked. The history behind it was worse.

Only needing to confirm a name and a face, Alvin put everything back where it was and slipped out to his car. Driving away, his fingers drummed the stick shift. His mind whirled. Isla had been working at the home for six months, but he brought his mother there two years ago. They couldn’t have known. No one should have. His demands for a clean break made sure of it.

He frowned. Somehow, Isla was never around when he came to visit. Did she know his schedule? Was it just luck, good or bad? Should he bring this up to Presa…?

No. Somehow the thought of Presa rolling her eyes at his conspiracy theory was more grating. At least with those six months Isla cared for Leticia, there had been no issue. So far.

What he needed was information.

Alvin came back to visit every week for the month. The doe-eyed nurse Cheria was there nearly every time. First, he returned because she sent a text saying his mother’s next letter was ready. She gazed at him with pity when he entered. Every interaction with her was painfully pleasant, as if she wanted to get to know more about Alvin without asking direct questions.

A good sob story sure worked to get someone to like you.

His mother tended to babble, but Alvin could listen to her all day. Cheria would watch them talk with a wistful expression, the most transparent woman in the world. But Leticia never mentioned anything bad about Isla.

Pressing Cheria for details didn’t go well either, but she babbled too. He learned she was twenty-one, six years younger than him. She was sweet, asking when he’d come by again to make sure he did. Just moved from a small town to the big city with no friends to speak of? Sad! Without thinking, he invited her to come with him on his next business trek through the city. He had just returned from scouting out new contracts to sell.

To his greater surprise, Cheria agreed. He stood with her in the hallway as his mother dozed. She stammered her response, her hands clasped in front of her like some noble woman.  “Sure, I can come I think… I don’t have anything else planned, actually.”

A sadder statement was never said. “You do now.” Alvin smiled. “I’ll swing by again once you get off work. Get your toes wet, to see the city for what it _really_ is.”

Her hand brushed her reddening cheek. “I _suppose_ , but, um…” She looked up through long-lashed brown eyes. “I don’t have anything else to wear… You work with bars and clubs, right? I can’t go around dressed like this.”

He agreed to take her back to her apartment after her shift. He waited in the car, trying to figure out the rest of his plan. Maybe getting Cheria away from her work would unlock the info he wanted: Isla’s moves, her habits. Does she dote on the other patients as much? The girl would clam up once he got close to those topics.

Cheria hopped into his car, wearing an outfit he had to get a second look at. She had looked pretty good in her scrubs, all considering. She had a good body, but she was so skittish. He never thought she’d show off so much leg. Her black skirt hugged her hips, with lace frills hemmed just high enough to cover her. Her red turtleneck wasn’t so skimpy, with long sleeves narrowing then flaring over her hands. Pink hair was set in a half ponytail, with a mass of it curling by her cheek. A small blue butterfly pendant on a gold chain hung over her chest.

Alvin allowed one approving nod before driving, pulling out into the street. “You look ready.”

“Thanks…” She squeaked, turning her gaze to the window. She clenched her hands in her lap. Such modest body language in a barely there skirt? Pick one message and send it already.

“So,” Alvin began, “has it been hard getting used to the city? You’re from up north, right?”

“No, I’ve been to cities before, so it’s nothing new. Though I guess it’s been a few years.” She turned and smiled. “How long have you lived in Trigleph?”

He shrugged. “For a while now. Work keeps me moving, but I always seem to find my way back. And there’s my mother to look after as well.”

“Oh, yes…” Cheria pulled at her skirt hem, her eyes dropping low. “She’s a wonderful woman. I’m very glad I’ve been able to get to know her.”

Alvin smirked. “Yeah, they don’t make them like her anymore. And you could say it’s my turn to take care of her.” He said it in a lighthearted way, but it dug a fleeting pang in his chest. He shoved it away like so much emotional baggage.

“I think it’s wonderful of you.”

“No way, it’s just what I need to do. But enough about me! Seems you know everything about my family already. Tell me about yours? Bet you have a bunch of little brothers and sisters.”

The conversation slowed. “Well,” she mumbled, “I don’t have any siblings, and I was raised by my grandpa. He took care of me after my parents died...” Her hand touched the butterfly. “I’m sorry, that was a lot, huh?”

Alvin clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his folly. “Sorry to bring it up...”

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” Cheria crossed her arms and held them against the cold. Alvin nudged the temperature just a little higher for her. “Grandpa’s my only family, but he’s wonderful. I miss him, but we talk every day.”

Alvin nodded, frowning. A simple enough question backfired on him. He had to fix the mood to make it easier to talk. But after some silence, he realized silence might be what she needed. The engine hummed distantly. Streetlights flashed across the dashboard. Cheria fidgeted, not saying a word.

Maybe _he_ would have to share a bit more to get her on his side? “My father,” he started, mouth dry, “died when I was young too.”

She turned and gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Alvin shrugged. “It’s like you said: It was a long time ago. These sorts of things just roll off your back, and you don’t even think about it. Soon it’s just a fact of your life as much as, say, the color of your eyes.”

“I guess that’s true. But still, it’s too sad...” She touched his arm before pulling away.

He smiled at her, nodding. The car ride continued quietly. They chatted more about mundane things, which fell to silence again.

Cheria sighed, obviously uncomfortable. “Where are we going exactly?” she asked innocently.

“A friend’s place. She owns this cute little bar outside of downtown. I actually have to tie up a few loose ends over there, so that’s our first stop.”

“Oh.” Cheria pursed her lips. “Your _friend,_ who’s a girl?”

Alvin frowned. “...Yes?”

She hummed in response, tossing a bit of her hair to the side. “I see. And are you two... close?”

Not only was she transparent, but Cheria was nosy as all hell. “Hold up! I’m not sure I like where this interrogation is going.”

“I’m not interrogating you! She’s a friend, right? I just would like to meet her is all.”

“Sure sure, if she doesn’t eat you alive first.” Cheria’s dismayed stare snapped to him. He grinned. “I’m kidding! She can be nice, and you know what they say: the first step in making a new home is making yourself some new friends.”

After a moment, Cheria sighed. “I guess so.” Another long moment, and she sighed again, heavily. Alvin could tell he wasn’t meant to hear her speak, but he was too well trained in whispers. “Feeling at home would be nice.” Her voice was barely a murmur. “Home doesn’t feel like it anymore...”

 

* * *

 

'Cause, honey, I'll come get my things, but I can't let go  
I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it  
Oh, I wish I could get my things and just let go

Green Light – Lorde


End file.
